


Have you tried turning it off and on again?

by MercurySkies



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, I.T guy Shane, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15228786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurySkies/pseuds/MercurySkies
Summary: Well no one’s perfect, he thinks as he stands upright wires in hand. Ryan’s gaze snaps, somewhat startled, to Shane’s hand and he watches in amusement as realisation dawns. Ryan flushes a lovely shade of red and Shane assumes that it’s only fair he be lacking in the common sense department considering he has the face of an angel and a physique that screams he could bench press Shane’s entire form.One I.T guy, three office chair jousts and a whole lot of love.





	Have you tried turning it off and on again?

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by the show The I.T Crowd.  
> A big thanks to Kay ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/istie/pseuds/istie) / [tumblr](http://kaylotta.tumblr.com/)) and Joey ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands) / [tumblr](http://faequill.tumblr.com/)) in particular for your computing advice. I'm sure I've taken a good few liberties here and there so forgive me for my tech related sins.  
> Also thanks to the BFU writers discord and to Buck for all your encouragement and ideas, y'all are saints!

Shane is better than this. He isn’t bitter. Well, maybe he is a little but can you blame him? He’s shackled to his desk in the I.T. department’s basement office at a sinking ship of a company. What was purported to be a gleaming vessel of big business when he first joined the team had in actuality started taking on water pretty quickly. The investments had sprung a leak and the company’s failure is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he can finally get out of this fucking basement and move on to bigger and better things. The business’ failure makes making the big decisions easy, freshly 30, relatively flirty and single with a new job and apartment lined up he’s quietly optimistic, a new feeling for ever the realist. The curse is that he’s still stuck onboard the S.S Shitshow for another month, feeling as though he’s bailing out the water with a leaking bucket as management continue to invest in an I.T. system that would need a complete overhaul if it had any hope in working efficiently. It’s a ridiculous waste of resources at this late stage and Shane has a sneaking suspicion such poor management is probably what’s responsible for the company’s collapse in the first place. But what does he know? He’s just the I.T. guy.

It’s as slow today as any other day has been since the business’ steady decline. He’s up to date on the scant support tickets he’d had and he’s on his third tower of empty cans of energy drink when the phone rings. Shane honestly can’t remember the last time he heard the phone ring. Even when the company was doing sort of okay it barely rung, most of their business conducted via email. Shane picks up with a strange sense of trepidation. “H-hi, Shane from I.T. how can I help?” He breathes into the receiver almost as if he’s forgotten how to answer in the weeks he hasn’t had to deal with a work call. “Oh thank God.” A rich voice replies and Shane has to repress a sigh at the sweet sound of civilisation.

“Umm not quite but I’ll do my best to answer your tech related prayers, what’s up?” Shane huffs out a laugh and finds himself smiling as he leans back in his chair, swinging his feet up onto the desk. The voice lets out a boisterous, boyish cackle that has Shane’s smile growing into a grin. He has the time and something about this guy’s voice makes him want to get to know him. “Oh what’s your name by the way?”

“It’s Ryan.”

“Okay Ryan what exactly seems to be the problem?”

From the subsequent ten minute conversation Shane manages to glean that Ryan has no clue what the problem is. He hadn’t pushed particularly hard for details but ‘nothing’s working’ is still almost comically vague. Ryan really has gotten off easy. If this had been a properly functioning office he would’ve wondered why the guy hadn’t just sent him an equally as vague email but as it stands Shane can’t remember the last time he actually spoke to another human being at work let alone not in his department. It’s just his luck that most of his team managed to jump ship before him.

It’s out of sheer, soul-crushing boredom that Shane assures Ryan that he’ll be up on the third floor to take a look at his station in a few minutes. Usually he wouldn’t look up from his desk without a vague inkling as to what the issue might be but the vast empty basement is starting to give him cabin fever. He stands and stretches, groaning as his joints pop and his muscles ache in protest. He’s sure just these few years of his tall frame bent over set ups and crouched under desks is going to leave him with a permanent stoop to his shoulders. He hobbles toward the elevator, trying in vain to stamp some life back into his numb left leg as he goes. He jabs the button for the third floor and is unsurprised when the faded 3 doesn’t stay illuminated, the whole building is falling apart but trouble with the elevator is just a little concerning. As he ascends a pathetic flutter of excitement bounces around the pit of his stomach. That’s just... Sad. He really needs to get out more if his impromptu trip up to the third floor is going to be the highlight of his week. When the elevator finally grinds to a halt and the doors shudder open Shane has to stifle a laugh.

The third floor office is almost as deserted as the basement is. Surely the cost of just running this place is losing the company thousands but again, what does the I.T. guy know? A plethora of abandoned workstations nestled in desolate cubicles stretches before him. It’s almost eerily quiet as he walks the length of the space, looking for a single employee. “Shane?” A voice calls from the opposite end of the office and effectively scares the ever-loving shit out of him. He clutches at his chest as he wheezes out a nervous laugh, turning in the direction of the voice that had called his name. Shane squints and spots, several cubicles to his left, a handsome face peering at him from over the top of a cubicle partition wall. The man, Ryan he assumes, grins at him so brightly that it’s almost as if Shane is a cherished friend and not just some schmuck that happens to work in the basement.

Fuck this guy is cute. Shane frantically runs a hand through his unruly hair before approaching. “That’s me!” He says cheerily. He adjusts his glasses and regrets the nervous gesture. He rounds the partition and  _wow_ okay this guy’s short compared to him but the cut of his shoulders in a beautifully fitted dress shirt makes his mouth go dry. “Umm what’s up?” He asks, glancing at the black screen of the monitor in front of them and Ryan sighs. “I thought I’d switch station for today. Change of scenery ya know?”

“Change of scenery? To a nearly identical station in a nearly identical cubicle?” Shane laughs and Ryan looks down sheepishly, cheeks tinting pink beneath the stubble that graces them. “Look around dude,” he gestures to the near empty floor, “desperate times.” Shane hums, shuffling toward Ryan’s set up. “That’s true, I’m one to talk. I only have Brent left on my team and I’ve not seen him for days. I’ve made a small city out of cans.” Ryan laughs at that and the nape of Shane’s neck feels warm. He bends over the monitor and checks the connections and finds that... Nothing is plugged in. Well no one’s perfect, he thinks as he stands upright wires in hand. Ryan’s gaze snaps, somewhat startled, to Shane’s hand and he watches in amusement as realisation dawns. Ryan flushes a lovely shade of red and Shane assumes that it’s only fair he be lacking in the common sense department considering he has the face of an angel and a physique that screams he could bench press Shane’s entire form. “Oh God.” Ryan says, voice muffled behind his palms where he’s buried his face in his hands “I can’t believe- I didn’t even think, I’m sorry.” Shane waves him off with a smile, leaning over to plug everything back in. He crouches, knees aching, to ensure everything is plugged in and turns everything on. “Don’t worry about it. I think it happens to everyone at least once, you’d be surprised how many times I’ve been called up for exactly this.”

“Still,” Ryan says shaking his head “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Shane hauls himself to his feet and awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “It’s not like I’m up to much around here anyway,” he says, “but I guess this can replica of Chicago isn’t gonna build itself. Anything else, let me know.” He turns on his heel to head toward the elevator, wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.

“Wait,” Ryan says and Shane turns raising a curious eyebrow, “I take my lunch at 1 at the cafe on the corner. D’you maybe wanna join me? Saves sitting in solitude.” He asks and Shane tries not to get his hopes up. It’s just two colleagues in a sinking ship, trying to get through the dreary work day without having some kind of mental break. “Sure. See you then.” He says with a grin all but skipping back to the basement.

 

* * *

 

Lunch and stolen hours at work when Ryan has some technical issue or another become their regular rendezvous. Ryan’s presence breaks up the monotony and Shane can feel himself crushing hard, almost praying before work each day that Ryan will have some problem with his computer so that he has another opportunity to see him. He’s hesitant to make a move, aware that their friendship is more born out of necessity than anything else.

A lot of the time Shane gets exceptionally lucky. Shane has no idea how Ryan manages to get himself into half the technical predicaments Shane has had to deal with in the last two weeks he’s known him. From accidentally changing the language of his OS to Spanish to mysteriously uninstalled drivers Ryan’s been through them all like he’s checking them off a list. He can’t help but smile when his phone rings about an hour into his work day. “Hi, have you tried turning it off and on again?” He asks in lieu of a proper greeting, he’s sure Ryan can hear his teasing smile as he speaks. Sure enough Ryan huffs, grumbles a disgruntled hello in return. “I have, you know I have.”

“I mean I don’t.” Shane quips back. “I can never be sure you’ve done anything I’ve told you to do unless I’ve watched you do it with my own two eyes. You have trouble following instruction.” He lets his voice drop low, testing the waters but when Ryan splutters indignant it’s clear the implication has gone unnoticed. “Uh huh alright you can bitch me out for being an asshole when I get up there. What’s the problem?” He says grabbing a pen in case it’s not just a case of loose connections. “Okay so I booted up my computer and it’s telling me that my keyboard and mouse aren’t plugged in-” Shane rolls his eyes so violently they ache.

“ _Ryan_ ,” he starts, unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice “I came up and checked your connections yesterday-”

“No I looked!” Ryan interrupts loudly and Shane has to tilt his head away from the receiver slightly “They’re plugged in! I even took them out and put them back in to make sure, like you told me. I don’t know what’s wrong.” He runs out of steam quickly, sounding embarrassed and dejected and now Shane really does feel like a little bit of an asshole. He grabs his bag with his laptop and stands abruptly swearing under his breath as his knee slams into the desk. “You okay?” Ryan’s worried voice sounds and Shane feels himself flush.

“Yeah I’m fine, just give me a sec I’ll be there soon.” He hears Ryan’s relieved sounding ‘thank you’ before he slams the phone down and jogs toward the elevator.

When Shane makes it up to the third floor Ryan is dithering around his cubicle, looking like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, a mug clutched between his hands. “Hi!” He says smiling brightly when he notices Shane’s approach, and he doesn’t look half as worried as he has done on Shane’s previous visits up here. His smile is distracting, warm and inviting and Shane bites his lip, feeling his palms start to sweat. “This is for you.” Ryan says and thrusts the mug out in front of him and Shane feels something in his chest loosen as their fingertips brush. “As a thank you, and for the inconvenience.” He takes the cup gratefully with a smile and savours the rich scent of coffee. He takes a sip, eyelashes fluttering when he finds it’s just how he likes it. “Don’t thank me,” he smirks “I haven’t fixed anything yet.”

“Well you better get to it then!” Ryan commands with a grin. Shane gives him a jaunty salute and laughs as he rounds the partition to Ryan’s cubicle.

He takes off his bag, resting it on the desk. He glances around the cubicle, feeling as though something is missing. He glances over at Ryan who’s suddenly very intent on a laptop. “Ryan?” Shane asks confusedly. Ryan looks up at him from where he’s bent over fiddling with his laptop. Shane is momentarily mesmerised by the stretch of his toned body, bent at the waist over the desk and a thousand and one depraved images flash through Shane’s mind as he struggles to keep his gaze from lingering on his ass. “Where the fuck is your chair?”

“Oh uh, well, one of the legs broke so the maintenance guys took it and they haven’t come back with a replacement.” Ryan answers with a shrug, eyes fixed on his screen. Shane glances around for another chair, but strangely there’s none to be found. He gets to it, bending over to work on Ryan’s set up but eventually he gives up, his back screaming at him in protest and sinks to the floor, pulling his own laptop into his lap.

“So what’s the diagnosis?” Ryan says jovially, sinking down to the floor also and nudging Shane’s shoulder. Shane rubs his eyes from underneath his glasses with a short laugh. “Somehow the drivers for your keyboard and mouse have been uninstalled. Not a problem for more recent tech but these setups are practically ancient artifacts, I’ll have to wiggle my way in to fix it.”

“But you can fix it?” Ryan asks and Shane rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“ _Of course I can fix it._ ” Ryan grins at him and he feels pride course quick and hot through him, warming his chest.

They sit side by side quietly, chatting and teasing each other softly as they work and it’s nice, really nice. It feels strangely warm, intimate. Shane knows very little about Ryan’s life but he feels as though he’s known Ryan himself for years. He knows that he’s hard working, still dedicated to his job even with less than two weeks left of their terms. He knows he’s an insufferable sports fan and an even bigger film nerd who’s diet mainly consists of popcorn and Chipotle. Ryan is adamant that ghosts exist, that extraterrestrials are out there and that demons walk the Earth. He’s insane and smart and ridiculous and Shane could listen to him talk for hours, hands a blur in front of himself as he works himself up in a passionate play by play or with the intent of proving Shane wrong, of making a believer out of him. He’s just finishing up, kneeling as he leans up to check everything is good to go when he hears it.

An incessant and grating pinging noise emanates from Ryan’s laptop. Shane glances down at his screen and audibly gasps. Ryan’s screen is obscured by dozens of popups. “Ryan what-” Shane starts, plopping down next to Ryan and pushing the screen back so he can take a closer look, “what the fuck? Give it here, I have to fix this.”

“Hey no it’s my- it’s fine I can handle it.” He says defensively trying to shield the laptop from Shane’s view with his body. Shane gapes, incredulous. “How long has it been like this? I haven’t seen that one since the nineties!” He exclaims reaching over Ryan’s shoulder to point at a pop up in the upper left hand corner of the screen. “Not- Don’t exaggerate, just... A while.”

“A wh- Ryan, it’s infected. If this computer were a person I’d shoot it in the face.” That surprises a laugh out of Ryan and he throws his head back, almost smacking it against the leg of the desk. “No don’t!” Ryan protests with a pout as Shane snatches the laptop from his grasp and scrambles to his feet holding it above his head and well out of Ryan’s reach. He follows him to his feet, and presses close, leaning into Shane’s chest in an attempt to reach for the device. “Why do you not want me to fix this?” Shane asks, breathless. He continues to hold the laptop out of Ryan’s reach, laughing at him every time he makes a little jump to try and grab it back. “You afraid I’m gonna rifle through your files? Afraid I’m gonna stumble across your digital porn stash?” He teases and Ryan splutters, flushing a vibrant red as Shane grins down at him.

“What? No!” He cries, slapping Shane’s chest for good measure as he takes a step back in defeat. He perches on the edge of his desk, thighs spread across the light coloured wood in a way that makes Shane’s palms itch. “Who even downloads porn anymore?” He asks crossing his arms. Shane stays silent. “Wait! Do you have a porn stash?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Shane fires back with a wink, pulling that beautiful raucous laugh from him once again.

Shane watches him, his own grin making his face ache and he feels his stomach flip like he’s just cleared the peak on a rollercoaster and he’s plummeting toward the ground. He’s never met anyone like Ryan, someone that still seems to shine amongst the mediocre and mundane, vibrant against the dull and drudgery, not tainted by it. Shane feels tainted by it and maybe that’s why he’s drawn to his every movement, hanging on his every word. He’s smitten and it’s a giddy and terrifying feeling.

“You’re so weird dude” Ryan says, reaching out to squeeze his arm as he smiles fondly at him. Shane takes a steadying breath, his heart beating a hard and fast rhythm against his ribcage at the fleeting touch. “I like being weird,” he says, suddenly feeling insecure, towering over Ryan. Ryan who sits there all slim cut pants and a crisp, white dress shirt, looking like he’s walked straight out of a page of GQ. “Weird’s all I’ve got. That and my sweet style.” He quips and Ryan’s resultant laughter rings out like a bell.

 

* * *

 

They make a deal, a wager. Best of three, office chair jousting. If Shane wins, he gets to fix Ryan’s laptop. If Ryan wins Shane has to pay for lunch all of their final week and admit ghosts are real. They search the building for the right spot and finally find it on the deserted fourth floor, a long stretch of hallway and a plethora of rolling office chairs and stackable whiteboard markers. Selecting their steeds carefully, they alter the seats’ heights accordingly, check none of the wheels are stiff or unwieldy. Shane miraculously manages to hunt down Brent, the last remaining member of the I.T. department that Shane hasn’t actually seen for days, and convinces him to be their judge and adjudicator.

“Okay.” Shane says, shifting in his seat, rolling back and forth like a particularly fidgety toddler. “Best of three. No faces, no balls, got it?” Ryan cackles, pointing his marker lance at Shane menacingly. “But it’s the biggest target!” He wheezes.

“What my head or my dick?” Shane remarks, wiggling his eyebrows and Ryan’s chair squeaks as he doubles over in laughter, accidentally stabbing himself in the side with his makeshift lance. Shane grins at him and Brent scoffs, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face as Shane approaches his starting line. “When you guys are done flirting...” He says, making his way to the centre of the hallway “Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Ready!” Brent calls, raising an arm in the air. His voice echoes throughout the empty office space and Shane realises he’s ridiculously invested in their silly game. He really,  _really_ wants to win. It’s stupid, he’s made the terrible mistake of making his reward for winning yet more work for him to do, but fixing Ryan’s laptop was the only think he could think of that’d give him his own excuse to see him. It was that or asking him out and Shane just... Couldn’t do that. Making Ryan go on a date with him as punishment for losing felt wrong, left a sour taste in his mouth.

Ryan’s sly smile has Shane’s often dormant competitive streak lighting up like a sparkler. He has a game plan of sorts, but he’s also cripplingly aware that he’s at a disadvantage, distracted by his ridiculously attractive opponent. He sees Ryan wiggle in anticipation at the other end of the hall, thighs spread again, seriously it’s like this guy can never sit normally and _God_ Shane really needs to focus.

“3, 2, 1, Go!” Brent crows as he drops his arm and quickly hops out of the way as Shane and Ryan hurtle toward each other. They laugh and scream manically, even as they struggle to gain speed with no second team mate to push them. Shane struggles to keep his legs from getting caught beneath the chair and the wheels run over his feet several times in his haste to push forward. He’s so preoccupied with trying not to snap both of his ankles that he forgets to even attempt to hit Ryan and before he can so much as lift his lance Ryan is sharply jabbing him in the chest, a marker breaking off and getting caught in his wheels. He wobbles precariously as Ryan cheers in victory, jumping up from his chair. Shane curses, muttering as he moves to stand and retrieve the wayward marker. “Yes! Take that bonestilts!” Ryan yells, laughing breathlessly as he races with his chair back to his starting point.

Shane lands the second blow, making it a draw and Shane has never felt more alive as he careens down the hall, screaming so loud his voice cracks like he’s 13 and not 30. He strikes just above Ryan’s hip, a little too close to his dick for comfort and Ryan is quick to tell him so. Racing down the hallway for the final time, Shane realises he hasn’t had this much fun in years, Ryan’s boyish glee is infectious, perfectly in sync with Shane’s penchant for chaos. Their laughter bounces around the empty office and his long legs continue to hinder his progress. Just before he’s primed to hit Ryan in the chest, Shane’s chair lurches forward. Ryan yelps as he screeches to a halt, the chair squeaking loudly in protest, but Shane keeps going. The sound of splintering plastic cracks through the air and Shane falls forward, down onto his knees and face first into Ryan’s lap. Shane’s world freezes. He’s thankfully stopped himself from falling face first onto Ryan’s dick by catching his fall, bracing himself with his hands spread across Ryan’s thighs. He can faintly hear Brent’s hysterical laughter but all he can do is stare at Ryan’s face, his warm, brown eyes wide in shock. Shane resists squeezing where his hands rest on his thighs but can’t seem to make himself move. Ryan blinks at him, cheeks flushed and Shane is only shaken from his stupor when he feels a gentle tap on the top of his head. “I win.” He whispers, pulling back and showing Shane the remnants of his lance, a single marker.

“Fuck” Shane laughs, sitting back on his haunches and removing his hands from Ryan’s thighs like he’s been burned. Ryan stands then, offers a hand and helps haul Shane to his feet. “Lunch is on you big guy.” He grins and Shane can’t help but smile back. “Wanna go now? Brent you’re welcome to come too.” He adds and Brent shakes his head, graciously declining. Shane follows Ryan to the elevator, fingers flexing with the memory of thick thighs beneath his fingertips.

 

* * *

 

In the coming days nothing really changes. Shane pays for lunch as promised and Ryan, despite it not being part of the bargain, allows Shane to fix his laptop. Shane’s stomach ties itself in knots every time he rides the elevator up to the third floor, heart pounding every time Ryan turns away from his desk or another colleague to smile up at him. Even as he delivers Ryan’s newly cured laptop with a flourish he can’t get his jaw to unhinge to say anything significant. As their final day rapidly approaches the desperate urge to ask him out, tell him he’s insanely hot or anything along those lines mounts within him, so much so he’s often afraid to speak in case something dumb just rolls off his tongue. Ryan’s technical ‘issues’ become more and more ridiculous, down to just simply unplugged parts and loose connections. It’s what finally cements that all this time, Ryan has been sabotaging himself. Over the weeks he’s come to know Ryan he knows he isn’t nearly that dense, careless or stupid, in fact quite the opposite. Why exactly he’s gone to such lengths, Shane doesn’t know. He can only guess that he simply doesn’t want his remaining colleagues to know that he finds the lowly I.T. guy better company than the rest of them.

He says as much to Brent on their penultimate day at the office, surrounded by the usual towers of energy drink that will surely one day be their downfall, either from their eventual collapse or their heart attacks from having drunk them all. “Hmm I don’t think so.” Brent hums, munching loudly on a granola bar. “I saw him quickly kick an office chair into the next cubicle over when we went up there to plug his monitor back in yesterday.”

“Oh so he finally got one back from maintenance or the fourth floor?” Shane asks brows furrowed. Brent rolls his eyes.

“He never broke the chair _Shane_. He’s had it the whole time.” He states as if it’s obvious. Shane leans back, a heavy breath leaving him.

“Huh, figures. I thought he’d been messing with me.” He muses.

“He’s certainly been playing dumb. Bergara’s not stupid.” Shane huffs, feeling his hackles raise at the confirmation he’s been being played.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just the cocky I.T. guy I get it.” He waves a hand, precariously close to one of the grand towers of cans.

“Dude.” Brent sighs, leaning forward over his desk and peering between the towers to meet Shane’s gaze. “I don’t think it was just for the laughs ya know? Why else would he lie about the chair? You don’t fix those.”

“I dunno.” Shane mumbles, he glides a fingertip around the rim of his coffee cup petulantly. “To see me struggle? That seems like a Ryan thing to do.”

“To see you bent over his desk more like.” Brent grins wolfishly at him and Shane chokes on the sip of lukewarm coffee he’s just taken. “Honestly, the way that guy looks at you? I’d be onto HR if I didn’t happen to know you look at him in the same way whenever you think he isn’t looking.”

 

* * *

 

Shane’s phone hasn’t rung once yet and it’s well past lunch time. Even if it had Shane doesn’t know whether he’d have been able to answer it. With his final day at the office comes all of the work he’d put off over the last few weeks. He’s been elbow deep in boxes and cable ties for the majority of the day, skipping lunch to move and pack what the company wants him to. He only thinks fleetingly about Ryan, too preoccupied by his work and when he hears nothing from him about getting lunch together Shane assumes Ryan has probably forgotten about him.

He takes a break at around 5.30pm, no hope of finishing up early on his last day. He leans back in his chair at his desk when a notification on his computer catches his eye. It’s an email, from Ryan’s work account. He opens it up, his heart pounding so hard his chest aches. Seconds later he jumps out of his chair, tripping on loose wires and cardboard boxes in his haste to get to the elevator. He slams the call button but when the doors don’t ding open fast enough he runs for the stairs, taking them two at a time, thankful that his long legs have finally come in handy. He makes it to the third floor, breathing hard and sweating profusely. “Ryan?” He manages to wheeze out at one of Ryan’s startled looking colleagues.

“He just left.” She says, frowning at him in concern but he doesn’t stick around to explain himself.

“Fuck!” He says much too loud as he sprints toward the stairs, almost throwing himself down them. His lungs burn and he realises he really needs to start working out as he careens into the building’s foyer and out the front doors.

He looks around frantically, calling Ryan’s name so loud his voice keeps cracking. He must look deranged, a 6’4” dude, drenched in sweat, eyes wide and breathing heavily as he yells his coworker’s name at the top of his lungs. He can’t see Ryan anywhere and he sprints around the side of the building to check the employee parking lot. “Ryan!” He yells, his head on a swivel, desperate to spot him amongst the rows of cars. Dizziness washes over him and he suddenly remembers he’d skipped lunch. He bends over, bracing his hands on his knees and tries to take steadying breaths.

“Shane!” A voice calls, and when he glances up, Ryan is jogging across the parking lot, hand gripping tight to the strap of his bag, his face contorted in worry. “Fuck. Jesus Christ Shane are you okay?” He asks, letting his bag fall to the floor as he bends down to get a look at him. He guides him to sit on the curb and Shane can feel himself warming in embarrassment. “I like you too.” Shane blurts out, wincing at his own inelegance, the waver in his voice. He risks a glance at Ryan and notices he’s sporting his own blush. “I figured out you were playing me with all the problems with your computer but I didn’t wanna acknowledge it because I-” Shane stutters, words stumbling from his tongue “I like spending time with you but I thought it was just a joke you know, razz the dumb I.T. guy but then you sent that email and you were just gonna leave? No number? That’s a real dick move you-”

Ryan kisses him. The L.A. sun is burning Shane’s neck but Ryan’s hand cups his jaw and he sighs into it, lips damp and plush and Shane can’t help but bite a little, tease him with tongue for the sweetness of it. “You always try to french with a first kiss?” Ryan comments raising an eyebrow as he attempts to fix Shane’s hair. “French? What are we middle schoolers?” Ryan laughs.

“Can you unsend an email?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Shane grins, planting a quick kiss on Ryan’s mouth, giddy with it. When he pulls back Ryan pouts, as if he’d wanted the kiss to last a little longer. Shane can relate, now that they’ve started he never wants to stop.

“Do you have plans right now?” Shane asks, suddenly nervous.

“No, I was just about to go home and probably cry over frozen pizza and Netlfix.”

“Riveting stuff. I still have work to do but, how about you help me out and we can build a desk fort and then order take out and eat out on the roof?” Shane asks, starting to regret the idea and wishing he’d taken the time to actually plan something. Ryan just grins at him, hauling him up from the concrete by the hand and tugging him back toward the building’s entrance. “Sounds like a date big guy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey pals, thanks for reading! Come say hi on [tumblr](https://mercury-skies.tumblr.com/) if you fancy it!


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